Inner Conflict
by RhiScissorhands
Summary: The story of the Joker, how he got where he was today. One little thing sets off a load more events! Character Death! Rated T for Violence! Better than it sounds. R&R. I'm no good at summaries.
1. Prologue

**A/N: All right! My first ever Batman fic! I'm hoping to do a songfic for Batman soon as well! I hope you enjoy this! Don't forget to Review if you like!**

**Disclaimer: Batman belongs to Bob Kane and Bill Finger. I wish I did own Brucie though, that would be sweet. . .**

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Prologue.

JPOV

"Ahh, so it's little _Brucie Wayne_, eh?" I sneered, throwing his cowl across the large room.  
Anger flashed through his dark, burning eyes.  
"_I'm not afraid of you, Joker._" He snarled in that stupid growl of his, the one that _didn't_ need to use now, may I add. He stood up, wiping the scarlet coloured blood off that was travelling down his chin, from the cut on his bottom lip. I fingered the sharp, shiny, knife that rested in my coat pocket. I took a slow step towards Brucie. I drew out the knife and twirled it delicately with my purple gloved fingertips.  
_'I wouldn't do that if I were you, he's this city's only hope now.'_ The rational voice inside my head told me.  
_'Now Jack, where would be the fun in that?' _The irrationally voice inside me questioned.  
They continued to argue so I turned them down to a buzzing in the background, like only a guy like me could.  
Brucie stepped towards me.  
"Tell me, _where is Gordon?_"

I just giggled. His gloved fist connected with my jaw. _Ouch_.  
"Tell me, _where is he?_"


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Alright, another update! I'm sorry if it's a bit short and that, I hope that the next chapter will be longer. Deds for this chappy go to Tatchy (Glaerdrune), I do hope I spelt it right! Anyway on with the show! I owns Hollie that sounds real weird. REVIEW PLEASE! I'm doing this instead of my English xD If this chapter gets good feedback, I'm might do a side one about his mother's death, to help make more sense.

DISCLAIMER: Batman and Joker and that shizz were created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger. They are owned by DC Comics. I do own Hollie, Jack, Ben and I guess I own Joker's parents I guess.

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Chapter One – JPOV 13 Years Ago

I could hear them arguing from my room, my sanctuary. It was worse than it had ever been before. My father was the drunkest he had ever been. I heard one of the kitchen draws slam shut. That could mean one thing, he had a knife.

I jumped up from my bed and looked around. Aha! There, in the darkened corner of my room, was a baseball bat. I gripped it as firmly as I could in my shaking hands and ran towards the door. I tiptoed down the stairs and hid behind the kitchen door.

My father was staggering towards my mother, a bottle of vodka in one hand, a knife in the other.  
"Why so serious, Kate?" He slurred as he cornered my mother against the sink. He drank the last of his vodka and dropped it in the sink. The bottle shattered with a sharp ring. His hand wrapped around her throat, his thumb on her cheek.  
"Why so serious, Kate?" he slurred again, bringing the knife up to the corner of her mouth.

I brought the bat forward and it collided with his back. The knife slipped. One side of my mother's face would be stuck forever in a Glasgow Smirk. She shrieked in pain and grabbed a dishcloth from behind her before collapsing on the linoleum. Tears were rolling down her face, the dishcloth she was clutching to her face slowly turning red.

My father was advancing towards me.  
"Robert, don't hurt the boy, please." She whimpered, before spitting out some blood. I quickly bolted up the stairs and into my little sister Hollie's room. She was sitting on her bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. I assumed that she heard what was going on downstairs. I shushed her and enveloped her in my arms.

Our father had always liked a good drink, but it became worse when my sister was born. He didn't want a girl, so he drowned his sorrows with alcohol, vodka being his favourite. He became violent when Hollie was six months old. He started hitting my mother and I with different items.

Hollie was still clinging onto my heavily bruised arm. She was bruise free and I was black and blue all over. I took her hits for her, she was only six after all, and I couldn't let her get hurt.

We sat in silence for a while. Hollie's sniffles subsided eventually and I let go of her.  
"You gonna be okay now?" I asked, holding her at arm's length.  
"Yes, Jackie. Love you." I ruffled her curly brown hair and kissed her head.

THREE YEARS LATER

Today was two years since our mother had died. My father had eventually killed her. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did; he always hurt her more than he hurt me. At least she wasn't in pain now. We told everyone that she had fallen down the stairs and broker her neck. That was very far from the truth, but I'd rather not remember that day again. Hollie and I were going to lay some flowers by her grave after school. I slammed my locker door shut as my friend Jack, and his annoying little pal, Ben, walked up to me.

Jack was quite the opposite of me, also being called Jack. He was tall and gangly with a curly mop of dark hair on his head, where as I was shortish, with wavy, mid length blonde hair. Jack reminded me a bit of Napoleon Dynamite. Ben was even shorter than me, and all the girls found him completely repulsive, to his distaste. He also resembled a porcupine/ demented hedgehog.  
"Come on laddeh, let's get going to history. What do you have next, Benny boy?" Jack said in his god-awful dodgy fake Scottish accent.  
"RS, I'll see you guys at lunch." Ben called as he was running down the corridor towards the RS classrooms. _Stupid porcupine._

Lunch was quite fun, we sat with the lonely orphan, Harvey Dent. For once he wasn't cooped up in the library. As he conversed with Jack and Ben I discreetly through bits of my bagel at Ben, he didn't seem to notice.

Once all my bagel was over with Ben, I started on throwing grapes. Finally he noticed. He mumbled something unintelligent and glared at me. Smirking, I carried on. Once I was through with the grapes, Ben grabbed Harvey's orange.  
"Hey, I was gonna eat that!" He moaned, whacking Ben in the back. Ben glared at him and shrugged.  
"Tough luck." He snarled. He unpeeled the orange and threw the skin at me. I dodged it and laughed at him, grabbing the hot dog off of Jack's plate. He merely looked confused. Ben was launching orange segments at me, and I was launching hot dog back. The hot dog ran out so I grabbed the bottles of ketchup and mustard on the table. Ben said some snide remark about me and my family. I couldn't think straight anymore, my common sense was shoved into a duffel bag and was beaten to a pulp by the monster within my head. He truly was wrong for messing with me.

You see, over the past couple of years, I have seemed to of earnt myself a wee bit of a . . . _reputation_. I used to be made fun of after the beatings got worse when Hollie was five, because I was the scared little boy who cried whenever a man, or boy, came close to him. The pent up anger came pouring out like a volcano. Then I started to hurt people, like my father did to my mother and I. People know to stay far away from me now. Jack and Ben didn't really know, because they went to one of the other local schools before we met at high school.

By now the cafeteria was silent. Where are the grass hoppers when you need them? All I could see was red. I grabbed a fork from a nearby table and slowly stalked towards Ben. Jack came forward to restrain me, but Harvey pushed him back into his seat. Ah, Harvey. The White Knight of Gotham High. A favourite with all the girls. Harvey was lucky. No, scratch that, Harvey was _fucking lucky_. Both of his parents dead. No one to beat him into a bloody mess when he got home from school. No one to hurt the people he cared about the most. Once I've finished with Ben, I would move on to Harvey.

Ben was frozen on the spot; the fear was evident in his eyes. The monster inside of me laughed in delight. Rationality was out of the window. I pounced on Ben and tore down his arm with the fork. Four crimson lines coloured his arm. I did it again, but this time I dug the fork in deeper. The warm crimson liquid danced down his arm. I repeated this a few more times, laughing while I did it. In my head, it seemed fair. Ben would know how it felt to be ripped apart. I let go of the fork. It landed with a 'clunk' in the crimson puddle that was forming on the off white linoleum. I swiped my index finger from Ben's wrist to his elbow, the length of the four slices. I put my finger in my mouth to taste the warm, familiar, metallic taste of the rich salty liquid.

I heard something that resembled a strangled cry and Ben fell limp into my arms. That released the common sense inside, sticking the monster back into his cage.

Because I was so wrapped up in seeking revenge, I didn't see Harvey leave to get the principal and the school nurse. I stood up, panting, just as Harvey, the principal and the nurse crashed through the cafeteria's double doors. The principal grabbed me by the arm, and the nurse grabbed Ben. The principal wasn't happy. Not one bit. Oh boy was I in for it when I got home.


End file.
